


Among Other Things

by drunkdragon



Series: Summoner AU [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Renora, arkos, background Arkos... for now, more characters and tags to be added as continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkdragon/pseuds/drunkdragon
Summary: Every hunter gains a summon, giving them what they need to fight. But more importantly it is a reflection of who they are, accentuating their strengths. And there are many hunters with many strengths. A collection of oneshots for my Summoner AU detailing the other characters as I go.





	1. Ren and Nora

It's not like he _wasn't_ going to be there, Ren told himself. He was still only a fledgling hunter, and as a requirement he was required to report in back to Beacon at the day's end. It would be like that for a few more months as he continued with the transition process. Nora was blowing things entirely out of proportion.

And it's not like she was that far behind him anyway. All she needed was to acquire her summon, train with it, and she'd be just like him. And then maybe she'd be the one doing the waiting every now and then instead of him waiting for her to finish her last class for the day.

Waiting was not her strong point, though. Rather, it was his. His summon, an Alura Une, reflected that. At face value it was a large, usually stationary flower bud with vines at its base. But when the bud opened, one would find the body of a young woman situated in the center. It was probably a she, for it never showed some form of complaint when someone referred to it as a female. And while it was sometimes awkward for the bashful hunter to gaze upon her, flowers don't need clothes. Fancy petals were enough and he figured she thought the same as well. And more importantly Ren himself never felt uncomfortable with her open figure.

But at the end of the day, the Alura Une was a plant. And plants were very good at waiting, just like he was. In fact, it was perhaps closer to meditating than waiting, something that she was very good at too.

It was a ritual of sorts. Every day since he successfully summoned the Alura Une, he would return to Beacon after his duties, patiently waiting for the last of Nora's trainings to end. He would often meditate, letting his summon gently sprout about him as it brought life into the courtyard. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment, the soft tangling vines going up a wall or a bench made of wild flowers often attracted curious hunters and trainees alike.

It was both a beautiful sight and a curious one. When a summon was out and about, often it was at the beck and call of its hunter. But Ren was more than content to let her have free reign in the courtyard while he meditated. Perhaps it was not unlike a form of meditating for her. Perhaps she focused best when she was simply growing things.

After all, it was how she worked in tandem with his own abilities. As the two of them meditated, waiting for Nora, her own growths acted as channels, nerves for the both of them as they tried to sense her arrival while tracking everything else. Grass was always the first thing she linked them to. Grass was everywhere and easy to reach. Next were the old trees, some of them more than a hundred years old and their roots reaching deep. And if she could, she would link to the flowers, but they weren't always available.

But as these links connected, they pulsed with his own abilities, amplifying his senses. He could feel out his surroundings, letting him know who was there and what was coming as the Alura Une communed with the surrounding plant life.

It was certainly helpful when he was sneaking around after hours as well. He didn't really need it to get into the school unnoticed at night to visit Nora, but knowing every single footfall of the campus security was an invaluable boon.

And by this time, after two months of the same daily ritual, it was very easy for the two of them to know when Nora was there. The first thing the grass would whisper were her footsteps. They were always rushed and hurried, but the following bits and pieces they sent him exuded other facts. Joy. Laughter. A wide smile. Her attributes.

Next were the trees. Pink. Sea green eyes. Orange hair. They were best at describing colors. And sometimes they would mention her hammer, depending on how it was being held.

But if the Alura Une happened to have connected with any flowers, their soft voice was perhaps the most telling and welcoming.

_Nooraaaaa…_

Even if the girl wanted to sneak up on him, it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Naturally, it helped that they were together together. All of the plants on campus knew that, and there was always a singular focus on her more often than not. Ren figured this was natural, as the Alura Une was literally an extension of himself that was then extending itself onto the other plants in the area. It would be odd for them to not focus on her during a peaceful moment.

And when Nora did arrive, she always greeted them gleefully.

"Hi Moonflower!"

It was her pet name for his summon, of which the Alura Une made no objection to. And as if in a form of greeting or an extension of his endearment (Ren wasn't too sure which one it was), she would smile and slowly reach out to Nora, tucking a small bunch of flowers right above her ear.

But this time, things were different.

"Ren!" It was a yell. Not a yell of pain or fear, but…

Eager.

"Reeen, where are yooou? Are you there, Moonflower?"

But more importantly, urgency.

"Found ya!"

The trees all echoed one word.

_Now._

As Ren's eyes opened, Nora was already stampeding up to them. "Ren, it's time, it's time! We need to go!"

"Time?" the words slipped out of his lips. With a mighty clap of her hands on his shoulders, she rocked his body back and forth a little bit for emphasis.

"Yeah! My summon is gonna come out any moment now!"

Oh. That.

"We need to get to the summoning hall!"

The summoning halls were reinforced buildings where hunters naturally practiced with their summons. More importantly, though, they were made of solid and sound materials. As summons were wild and varying in nature, this meant that it was a controlled space where they could arrive in their full majesty.

It's just that with the their majesty, anything could happen, and Nora was certainly not an exception. Letting Moonflower disappear in a flurry of petals, Ren quickly made his way to Nora, following her bright orange hair as she ducked and weaved past the students. Finally stopping at a grand building, she pushed open the doors, dashing straight through another set of them and into the wide hall.

The staff was used to such things. Summons were always demanding when the time had come. The hunter knew it was going to happen, and nothing would stop the summon from arriving. As soon as Nora dashed into the opening, they began their work.

"Name and age?"

"Nora Valkyrie, nineteen!"

"Training class?"

"2-B!"

"And semblance?"

"Lightning affinity!"

That was all they really needed - it was to have the hunter pulled for the next phase of training. And in Nora's case, this was the last thing that separated the two of them.

"Oooooh, I just can't wait to see what it'll be, Ren! Maybe it will be a sloth!"

"Nora, I don't know how effective a sloth would be for combat."

"Maybe I'll get to ride it into battle and we'll be struck by lightning and-"

He needed to calm her down. While hunters could become swathed in the frenzy of excitement, the summon would only truly arrive when the person was focused. Closing his eyes, he let Moonflower sprout at his side. The idea was to present her with a flower like usual.

But instead of letting his summon do it, he instead had her place the flower into his own palm before disappearing again. Walking up to the still babbling Nora, he looked her in the eyes and watched as she fell silent. Raising his hand, he gently tucked the flower over her ear, just like how Moonflower would.

Her cheeks began to flush red, but a smile quickly sprouted into place as he pulled back and gave her a gentle tap on the nose.

Her eyes closed, her body falling still. That wide smile was still there.

_Whoosh_

When the stream of lights faded and Ren looked back, he saw a butterfly the size of his head flitting about the two of them. Its turquoise wings seemed erratic in movement, yet it moved with a clear direction, not unlike how Nora was. She always had a clear goal - it's the execution that was always unexpected.

Finally the butterfly settled on the back of her shoulder and it folded its wings together for a brief moment. Then, in one mighty flash, it splayed them outward and electricity crackled through its body. Nora let out a surprised gasp as the raw energy coursed through her body.

It was perfect for her, just like how Moonflower was perfect for him. And when their eyes locked with each other, Ren could see that she felt the exact same way.


	2. Blake Belladonna

The science world knew the Belladonna name quite well. Her mother and father, having been doctors in the field of aura studies who met by chance, were both well-published. For many the name didn’t matter. But for some it was everything.

Blake found herself not fully understanding at first. She was too young to see it at the time. But as she grew older and learned about her heritage, she felt an anger bubbling within. Had the Faunus race as a whole not done enough? There were tales of heroes and kings and queens and all of the good things they had accomplished in the name of a united humanity.

But it was the crying of her parents that broke her. Sometimes, when they thought she was already asleep, tired from hunter training, one of them would cry. Sometimes it was her mother, other times it was her father, but usually it was both for their works were linked together. One’s sorrow often drew out the other’s.

They were few and far in between. She didn’t put two and two together until a little later, when she realized that the crying tended to occur after a scientific summit or meeting. Her parents were well-respected. Scientific circles often praised what they did and based their own experiments and theories from it. But even science was burdened with its old traditions, and sometimes they got in the way.

One night, after her mother had gone to bed early, Blake moved through their house and found her father staring into an empty fireplace and she asked the question. “Father, why do you cry?” He played it off at first, but eventually she broke down the barrier and he talked. The summit he had spoken at had laid out the thesis and experiment to be carried out, and yet they rejected the findings.

“I’m not young anymore. Stop hiding from me,” she angrily said. “You’ve done nothing wrong, and there’s no reason for you to be crying like that.”

He closed his eyes and breathed long and slow. Her ears stood straight upon her head, waiting for his answer. “I cry because it acknowledges who I am.”

“But you spent a whole year on that project! It’s rude! You followed every little-”

“Blake.” He said her name with a heavy sigh, as if he still thought she was too young to understand. But she bit back her retort and quieted down, straining her ears to hear him. “I don’t cry because I question my worth as a person. I’ve never done that before. I followed the steps, I put in the time and energy, and I made sure that nothing was out of order. I cry because it is they who do not see me as such.”

Blake wanted to scream, to yell at him for his answer at the time. But despite what it seemed to carry, his back only straightened. It pushed him to his full impressive height, even if he was seated, and that was the end. She had asked why he cried, he had given it. It was her problem that she was dissatisfied by his answer.

She wanted him to say it was unfair, that he was struggling to break out of that lower status like the Faunus heroes in history and in her books. But instead he had said he was already equal on a technical level - it was the others who were trying to lower him. She hated his response.

The hunter academy also knew her last name. It was inevitable - she needed to give it if she wanted to have any chance at becoming a huntress. This meant that the world she was a part, if the average hunter ever put any time into reading books, knew where she came from. It didn’t take long for her Faunus status to come out in the social spheres she was in.

And just like how it was for her parents, for most it didn’t matter and for some it was everything.

Blake tried to ignore those some. But whenever she set foot out into the town, a black bow rested over her ears hiding who she really was. And while it kept the stares off her head and the uncommon sneer away from her, it made her teeth clench.

One day she wore it to class. She promised herself it was just this once. Then just one more time. Then she swore herself off of it, but no matter how hard she tried to step away she wanted it because otherwise she remembered that she wasn’t worthy yet.

Her partner, Yang, gave her hell and back for it all the time.

“They already know who you are, and guess what - you wipe the floor with them in class!” the blond nearly spat. “You’ve proven you’re bigger and badder!  _ They  _ should conform to you, not the other way around! They’re not going to care about your achievements, and frankly I don’t think you should care about what they think.”

Until one day Blake finally said something about it.

“It’s not about who’s the better hunter. Who is better doesn’t matter when I’m not the same as them. They’ll always view me differently. And besides, I don’t even have a summon yet.”

“... And what would a summon mean to you?”

“It means that I’m one of them, and they can’t deny it anymore.”

Yang was rearing to continue the fight, but she relented in the end. Since then she hadn’t said a word about her ribbon and she wore it day in and day out. It was a victory she didn’t want, not even worthy of the term pyrrhic. But it was a comfort, and at the time that was what mattered.

But all it ever did was make her angrier. If she thought about it, Yang was right. There was a time where those who mocked her didn’t have a summon, when they were trainees as well. And when she finally got a summon, that didn’t change anything because they already had one. She would just be going through the phases expected of a hunter.

So when it was time, her heart pounding in her throat and all four of her ears, with light gathering at her front in the summoning hall, eyes closed and listening, she felt her rage boil to her top again. This was the moment she was waiting for. Here was where she would become a huntress. Here was where her mockers would face the light.

Blake hoped the summon would be big, gigantic even. She hoped it’s worth a damn to prove all of the other people wrong, that she could match the prowess of a human. But as the light swirled more and more, she realized that it had stopped growing in size. The summoning had paused, and shortly afterward the light began to unravel itself. It was not a common occurrence, but neither was it unusual. In fact, it was something witnessed in perhaps forty percent of the summoning rituals with an equal occurrence across all intersectionalities.

Yet for it to happen to her now was horrifying. This was her proving moment. Yang was watching from the sides. She couldn’t lose now, not when she put so much weight into this. She tried to breath, to slow herself down. But then came the voices. They were little snickers playing in the back of her head. Words calling out to her to say lines and sentences she would never dare to repeat.

Blake began to panic.

_ “Faunus filth.” _

_ “You’ll never be one of us.” _

An image of bruised and defeated student wiping blood from his lips, of her putting away her sword.

_ “Hide behind your bow then. I know what you are.” _

All this time, Blake wanted to be accepted as a human. She wanted to be able to walk down the streets and be free of the errant gaze or stare. But her two damned ears atop her head meant she could never truly be one.

Her body and breath trembled. Lips quivered before gritting her teeth in anger. Heat stung at her eyes before streaking down her cheeks.

But despite the realization, despite the pain it brought her, only one word echoed in the silence that was now her mind.

_ No. _

It would not end here, and her eyes fell shut. Slowly, her arms pulled out Gambol Shroud from her back, holding it in front of her and pulling out the blade. In her best, slowest, calmest breaths possible, Blake’s body began to bend and turn, going through slow forms and stances and disciplines. Hardly useful for combat, but it was taught in the academy to calm and discipline the mind. Gradually she went through more advanced twists and turns, the movements drilled into her body.

Once the last step came to an end, she felt her body snap and flicker. Moving faster and faster through her own personal variations this time, she let go of the blade and used only the ribbon to control its swings and arcs. Despite her eyes being closed, she knew where it was at all times, knew just how to pull it so that no bullets fired. And she moved until her limbs burned, her rage fueling her movements until each pull and tug was followed by a roar from her lips.

This was hers, something that she had earned because she was always physically capable of doing so and drove herself to achieve it. Anyone could learn to do the basics, and with enough training anyone could do what she had done.  _ Anyone. _

She was already a hunter.

With one final tug of her ribbon, the blade arced upward and flew neatly into its sheath and she slung it across her back. Now breathing heavily, tears lost amongst sweat, she realized what her father was trying to tell her, what Yang was trying to tell her. With a steady hand, she reached for her bow and pulled, the cloth becoming undone and falling to her feet.

She didn’t feel the need to be a human anymore.

_ Whoosh _

Her heart picked up once again. Turning her head to her side and looking past the dying light, a hulking black bull faced her, red eyes staring back. But in its mouth was the handle of a sheathed sword, elegant and beautiful.

Her rage would always be there, just like the coiled muscles of the beast before her, ready to lash out. Yet her presence of mind was refined like blade in its jaws. There would always be someone who thought less of her. There would always be those who oppressed Faunus rights. But she no longer needed their approval. She didn’t need to try and reach and be them, for she already stood tall in her own light.

Before she was a hunter, she was a Faunus. But before she was a Faunus she was Blake Belladonna, and no one could take that away from her. Not even herself.


	3. Pyrrha Nikos

Perfection of the self was meant to be an unobtainable goal. One could not master everything, and all had their own individual strengths and weaknesses, preferences and dislikes. It was why hunters worked in teams when possible. As much as a summon complemented one’s abilities, there always seemed to be something that was just out of reach.

But for the life of her, Pyrrha felt that she had met the end of her rope. Her individual strengths and weapons, a shield followed by a sword that could become a rifle or spear at a press of a button, limited her to certain areas. She did not carry the explosive strength of Nora’s hammer or the shells it could fire. And though she could sense metallic objects with her semblance, Ren outshined her in every other aspect of that field.

But she was not without worth. She wasn’t known as the Invincible Girl for nothing, after all. With many hunters relying on metals for weaponry, her ability to control and direct them had given her a naturally unfair advantage. She had won her first tournament at fourteen, and over the course of the next two years was unstoppable in climbing the national circuits until finally she had reached the very top.

With record speed, Pyrrha delivered the finishing blow within three minutes and became the youngest person to win the Mistral Tournament. The next year she broke her own scores while walking home with the grand prize again, and the year after that she brought her team to victory in the Vytal Tournament.

Her hunter career path, however, had placed her more in the lines of an infantry soldier. Though none could doubt her skill with her weapons, they did not lend well to dealing with the Dominus class Grimm. With weapons that small, the only way she had managed to do reasonable damage to one was by threading her weapon through it from the back. Her semblance’s pull became stronger as the object grew closer, so pulling her weapon back towards her was more effective than pushing it away. But this meant giving up her weapon - far too risky of a maneuver.

For what she could reliably do, though, she excelled in. While many hunters could fight through smaller Grimm as a team, she had been known to absolutely decimate such groups on her own. As the Dominus-class monsters were far from common, this meant that there was still a heavy demand for her skills. JNPR often found itself being called into high profile missions, and so life was still good.

Yet she felt like she was languishing. Pyrrha could accept that for her tastes and skills, she was the perfect one for the job in many cases. But at the same time there was a clear line in her abilities. If she were in a favorable environment then she could perhaps make an exception, but that was a limiting factor. And if she changed what she fought with, it would require learning and even more time putting the written words into practice.

She tried to reason with herself that Nora would be enough. The face of a hammer granted a wide point of impact, allowing the force to more easily rip and shatter armor. And the girl was no slouch either. But only having one person on their team capable of breaching the defenses of such creatures was an overall weakness to her. Nora couldn’t be in two places at once, after all.

Was it wrong to crave what she could not yet achieve? What she might never achieve?

It was a stupid question. Of course it wasn’t wrong. As soon as it came to Pyrrha’s mind, so did her leader and his own struggles. She laughed at her own stupidity, and then she worked up the courage to kiss him later.

Yet while that particular joy was a byproduct of the thought, it still burned away at her inside. To be physically better. To expand her own horizons. To understand her own choices and limitations, and yet seeking other ways to improve.

It didn’t help that other hunters stopped seeking her out to be an equal training partner. Without challenge, there was no triumph. Adversity often bred excellence, after all.

And then one morning, she felt it. The call.

She shook her partner awake and then didn’t even wait for him to rise before she started moving about to get ready. She could barely steady her hands as she got dressed and it took all her concentration to make sure that her semblance didn’t break anything.

This was it. This was the next area for her to find a way to improve. Many hunters acquired a summon that let them either bolster what they excelled at or provided them a way to cover their weakness. Nora’s summon, for example, allowed the girl to access her powerful semblance at will but was incredibly fragile in comparison to herself. And Ren’s ability to detect was amplified with how Moonflower could commune with the flora around him, hear their whispers.

As she stepped into the Summoning Hall, her partner walked to the side to handle all of the talking for her. Grateful, she closed her eyes and began to breathe. In, out. In, out.

It was easy to say that she didn’t see a weakness within herself. She defeated all challengers, defended her title, and as a result allowed JNPR to demand a strong asking price when it was applicable. And yet there was so much more that was just beyond her reach as a single human being. She would always have a place in her field, but dissatisfaction remained on her tongue.

Perfect yet imperfect. Beautiful yet flawed.

Whole yet incomplete.

Whoosh

Light swirled in front of her, and she steeled herself. What would be there? She tried to shield her eyes, but found herself growing cautious when the strings of light faded into smoke, thick and gray. For a moment all watched in silence, her own breath and pulse pounding away at her throat and ears.

Deep within the shadows, a red and bronze disc flew out from the smoke, its sharp edge hurtling towards her. With hardly a second thought, her own shield came up to block the attack. With a heavy shove, she deflected it upward, letting her semblance send it further and further away from her. Pyrrha stared into the smoke, trying to see who threw it, but she noticed that there was a strange tugging at the back of her mind. She tried to ignore it, simply thinking that she was being extra wary at the thought of an upcoming battle.

But it grew more and more in her mind. Finally, she looked up to see the disc flying straight down to her. With a quick roll to the side, she felt her body rise and snap to look at the offending object, and she felt herself pause.

The disc had crashed into the ground, gouging the reinforced material but remaining intact. It was red and bronze, like her own, but what drew her attention was the thin dark aura around it - the same effect when she used her own semblance. With a light hum, the disc shook its immaculate self free before hurtling back into the clearing smoke.

Pyrrha was ready for strange creatures to come from the summoning rite. She was not ready to see her own image, from the bronze crown resting atop long red locks to the crimson sash and heeled greaves. But what she recognized the most were the exact copies of Miló and Akoúo̱ in the hands of the other Pyrrha. When she looked up, their green eyes locked with each other.

They stood tall, appraising each other like warriors, and for the first in a long time she felt anxious in combat. Could she defeat herself? Was it even herself, or just some clone, some doppelganger that looked like her?

Enough was enough. She blinked and so did her other self. In synchronized motion, the two raised their weapons. If this really was herself, her own semblance would be useless - it would be classic warfare. Without a second thought, they dashed at each other, swing for swing, blow for blow, block for block. It went for the super-secret twist at the end of her swings, something she developed to help catch others off guard, the one where she had to guard her kidney instead of her chest. It knew when to leap over her blade to avoid getting its feet swept out by the follow-up shield strike.

Nothing was a secret from the other. It was simply two warriors in tandem. And when it came to the final blow, both warriors stepped into their swings, only to aim the tips of their swords upwards at the other’s chin.

A stalemate.

Pyrrha had lost before when she was younger and still training. Loss lead to learning, which lead to success. To obtain a draw in a match instead surprised her, and it was reflected in the other’s face as well. But it was momentary. With hardly a beat, the other clone stepped back and lowered its weapon - the first motion since the start of the fight that wasn’t just a mirror of one of her own moves.

With a sly grin, the clone faded to darkness and slunk towards the ground. It melded into her own shadow for the briefest moments before exiting out the back. She watched as it shot her that same look and a wink as it approached her partner and struck up a casual conversation, clearly flustering him with her words and actions.

It was a true doppelganger, then, an image made from herself and given agency, if not a bit more… daring than she was. Mischievous didn’t quite cut it with the language it was giving him. But Pyrrha could feel some sort of connection, a sort of oneness with this shade, a feeling that permeated through her during their fight.

In the end, it was not a mighty beast, capable of standing toe to toe with Grimm of larger proportions. It was not creature that covered a weakness directly. It was instead a creature imitating herself, with perhaps a bit of added flare. It would have her exact strengths, but struggle with her same weaknesses.

But the difference was that where there was only herself prior, struggling to overcome her own limitations, there were now two bodies acting in unison to achieve their objective. She would have to practice and develop ways to use her other self. Perfection did not occur overnight, after all. And in a sense, she already was perfect when it came to the tasks she was assigned.

But this creature gave her an option to explore. She could sit and develop strategies that required the use of her other body. While they might not be able to take on a Dominus class monster immediately, she was sure that there was something they could build upon.

It gave Pyrrha something she hadn’t seen in herself for a long time - the potential to become even greater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it~ Pyrrha gets herself because the best way to improve something that’s perfect is to have two of them. Also her summon is a doppleganger, which, while human shaped, is still considered a creature/monster of sorts. Plus, it’s not a god-aspect either, so I felt that it worked for this case.


	4. Jaune Arc

" _Your potential is clearly there, and because of that you will remain in Beacon and I expect you to graduate as a hunter. You will have the same requirements and have the same access to resources as any other student. This will be both your punishment for your transgression and opportunity to achieve your goal. Have I made myself clear?"_

" _... And if I were to leave?"_

" _Then I will ensure that you are branded as a liar for the rest of your life to the fullest extent of my power."_

* * *

The headmaster's words had hung over Jaune's head for the longest time. It was almost cruel - succeed or be something worse than a failure. A failure would still have a chance at living a civilian life, but Ozpin's threat was one he didn't intend to put to the test.

Yet neither had the man cursed him with nothingness. Aside from a slight pause of a glance from the instructors, nothing changed on the next day. They put him through the same exact tests as his peers and expected him to succeed, and they gave him the same exact advice.

But he struggled the most in combat class. He could make himself small in the other classes to avoid speaking up in class. He could read and try to cram as much information as he could into his mind and regurgitate it onto paper. Come time to pick up his sword and shield, though, there was a clear difference in his ability. Everyone else had gone through a basic training academy or had been trained by someone in their family.

All he had to fight with was the armor and weapons he brought with him on the first day. He lacked the muscles and experience on how to avoid and how to strike. Nothing he did could hide that lie.

He brought it up to his team shortly afterward. They needed to know what the truth, and he exposed it to them. It was hard to tell his friends, and for a day or two things were different. Nora was silent and Ren seemed even more contemplative than usual. Pyrrha looked like she didn't know what to say. He gave them the opportunity to go.

They stayed in the end.

"You might be a liar, Jaune, but you're our leader until we graduate. We've seen you lead, and with some work I'm sure we can get you into fighting shape."

It was a rough year after that. Every morning before classes (Pyrrha had let him sleep on the weekends), he was given the basics of combat - things that every hunter must know to fight Grimm. He had his sword taken away and told to defend blow after blow with the idea that the longer he survives, the more openings he can find to actually strike. Only when team was convinced that he could consistently block a blow or dodge it was he given his sword back. It was one step at a time, ensuring that his fundamentals were there before anything else.

The second year was the worst for a while, though. That was when his ineptitude was called out. Somehow, the status of his transcript was leaked and the student body ached to know the truth. Aside from a few others that his team shared the issue with, the gossip was hot and the stares were lethal. Nasty notes popped up on his team's door a few times. Finally, though, Jaune drew the line when his teammates were targeted.

"I might be a liar, but at least I'm willing to pick fights with my problems directly."

Despite sporting a black eye and split lip, he came out on top against his peer. He might have looked like shit and everything hurt like hell, but there was something else about the hardfought win.

He rode the high.

"I lied on my transcript, and if it would get me closer to my goal of getting into Beacon to become a hunter, I'd lie again and again. If that's what it took for me to get to where I am today, then it was worth it."

Team JNPR might have lost a friend or two that day, but most of their friends already knew about it. The people that mattered stayed. And yet somehow, being open about it made things easier. Anyone who brought it up was rebuffed by his acceptance of his status as a liar.

Then in his third year, just like the majority of hunters, he felt it. He had woken up with a jolt, jostling Pyrrha awake with the creak of the bed. But the two of them recovered and got started. Pyrrha tried to call Ren and Nora to tell them that they wouldn't be able to meet up for training while he did his best to get dressed and make his way to the summoning hall. His foot was out the door before she was even able to begin dialing.

If he were to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure if this day would have come. He knew he lacked talent when he first came in, and still did in more areas than he'd like. He could handle Grimm, but that was about it. Anything bigger than an Ursa was going to give him trouble.

And gods help him if he ran into Dominus-class Grimm alone.

Yet despite the pressure welling up in his chest, the way each footstep seemed to pound, his growing nausea edging away at his stomach, there was a strange humor rising inside of him as he watched the streams of light swirl and spin in front of him.

Would he still the biggest liar of Beacon if he met all the basic benchmarks to be a hunter?

He laughed. Not a mad, uncontrolled one. Just one of strange humor. A chuckle that went on for longer than he expected, perhaps.

_Whoosh_

The nausea cleared away and he looked onward. As the smoke began to die, a loud roar echoed from behind the clouds. Gazing around, he saw the supervisors in the area looking upward towards the ceiling, mouths hanging wide open. But as he turned his head up, there was nothing.

There was a small gasp, and he snapped his head back to the others in the area. One of them had fallen down and was now staring at… something. But again there was nothing to fear. He could see nothing. He could hear nothing.

He looked at the center of the summoning hall and slowly made his way towards it. In the smoke, a small silhouette sat still. And as it finally faded and died, a fox remained amidst it all.

And it would have been a plain and simple one with its reddish-orange coat and white belly had it not been for the many tails fanning out from behind it.

Well, no time like the present. He got on one knee and ventured out.

"Hey there." He couldn't help but smile. Until this very moment, he was unsure if he would ever speak to his summon, or if he would ever acquire one. "You got a name you go by?"

The fox remained still, sitting on its haunches. The head slowly turned, red eyes looking into his own and gazing long and deep before finally moving its jaws.

"Loki."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the timing of it all, this is not inspired by Marvel's Ragnarok movie whatever thing at all. I've been sitting on this one for Jaune very early on in this AU's lifespan :3
> 
> Also, beta'd by ImSoAwesome


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